


Serpent

by Eternal



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Warbreaker - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal/pseuds/Eternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amon escapes from the Aogiri Tree with the aid of a sentient sword.</p>
<p>[Set pre Tokyo Ghoul:re and post-Warbreaker (pre Words of Radiance)]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serpent

Amon picked up the sword and –

_Hello Amon._ It said cheerfully. The thing must have been projecting into his mind because when he looked wildly around there was no one about.

He felt…

Nauseated. The part of the blade unsheathed leaked black smoke, coiling around his hand as powerfully as the nylon steel alloy holding the bridge up.

This wasn’t a quinque. Of that, he was sure. But he ran with the weapon coating the air with black mist struggling to throw off his Aogiri pursuers. They vaulted like rabbits from the burning buildings, flooding the area with cloaks. He saw Noro walking amongst the trashcans and shuddered.

Meanwhile, the thing in his head was still talking happily. _Can I kill him? We should really do that._

Amon hesitated. They’d halted in the alleyway. Somewhere outside, the ghouls were on the prowl. He saw the lights of the petroleum which they’d doused him with during the torture.

_What are you?_ He thought, responding in like to the sword.

_I destroy evil._ CCG training warred with paranoia in his mind. Perhaps if there were ghouls there were stranger things in this world. But he sensed that the sword was unnatural.

Amon waited for the figure to halt. It was Noro. The man’s voice was very quiet and it took all of Amon’s sensitive Ghoul senses to hear the man.

_I don’t remember Vasher being this hesitant._ The sword complained. It had a high and childlike voice. _Just swing me at him and I’ll do the rest_.

A kagune tentacle smashed the ground. Amon jumped and another one went to his throat, choking him. Was this the way the other ghoul inspectors had gone?

Feeling his own bikaku erupt behind him he managed to wriggle only part of the sword free. Amon kicked at the tentacles smothering him and saw yet another tentacle coming his way. Then with a heave and a twist which he was sure dislodged his thoracic spinal bones, he managed to get the sword free and swung his kagune at the ghoul, the sharp points lancing into flesh. It screamed in pain.

The sword was jubilant as it sounded in his mind. _Destroy!_ The blade sprayed dark ink smoke all over the air. It was blacker then night, blacker then the sclera of ghouls.

_Destroy the evil._ Was it just his imagination, or was the sword’s mental voice deeper than before?

Amon swung the blade with a practiced hand at the remaining tentacles of the ghoul. His entire upper arm was in agony, the blackness of the blade clawing its way up his arm. He could swear that his kagune was growing dimmer, but it was nothing compared to the effect of the blade on the ghoul. When it struck, it drew in the red kagune parasitically draining the colour from the victim.

He ran, black tendrils of smoke still coming off the blade. He span the sword and killed a ghoul reaching up from a smouldering vehicle. The sword entered the twitching body and drained the kagune. Another ran in from the right side. Again the sword sucked the kagune in greedily. Ten more. Twenty more.

When the sword touched the vehicle, it and the fire turned to dust.

Noro came, but the ghoul was cleverer. He dodged. Amon tried to catch him with his bikaku.

‘Not so clever, eh, half owl?’ The ghoul enquired. But something caught in his eyes, something dark and greedy and blacker than the night.

He _reached_ for the blade.

_Destroy the evil!_ The sword reverberated in his mind. It was cold, inhuman and endless in his fuzzing consciousness. Gone was the happy go lucky tinge to the voice. This persona of the sword was alien and demanding. It dragged him forward and it went through the ghoul. The world was beginning to dissolve around him, tilting dangerously.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to fall unconscious. Anything to get away from the sword. He dropped it with a clang and the bass stentorian tones ceased immediately. The pain of releasing the dead weight gave him hideous pain in his elbow.

He crawled on blindly, searching for the sheath, in the knowledge that had he held the sword for longer he would have certainly died. He retrieved it from behind the bin from where it must have fallen when he’d been struck from the kagune.

It felt years ago. He gingerly felt his own kagune with his mind and by touch. It felt shredded and frayed and he knew that he’d need to eat again tonight. He sheathed the sword, careful not to put to touch it. Being near it made him feel sick.

_I did a great job didn’t I?_ The sword said, back to its happy tones, the booming alien voice had disappeared once it had been sheathed. _You’re proud of me aren’t you, Amon. We did great together, we should kill again more often_.

The bodies were strewn in the street. Lifeless bodies with staring grey eyes which would never move again looking into the sky because of the sword and his kagune. Senseless murder, Amon thought, retracting his kagune. There was a stench of metallic blood in the air. He bowed his head.

_I’m not ‘the sword’, I’m Nightblood_. It wittered on. _It’s not like you had much of a choice there anyway. The evil was going to kill you._

Amon went to retrieve the quinque case. It was battered as he felt and covered in gore. Maybe, he thought, if he put the sword in there he’d never need to hear that voice again. Or have to deal with being a ghoul. Or have to remember the torture.

_Oh no, I’m not going in there. Amon, I like the sun. Amon, you’ll need me, I’m your friend. Please -_

Click. The voice vanished, drowned out by the lining of the case. His hands found the comforting grip of the briefcase and he stood. It was almost like the old days being a ghoul inspector partnered with Mado.

He walked, strong and confident into the nascent sunlight over Tokyo. It was still weak but it was something.

He would find Torso and he would come to terms with what he had become.

 


End file.
